


so hold me, lover, like you used to

by 5ftjewishcactus, aurora_beam



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 5+1 Things, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Comfort, Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Crowley's Name is Crawly | Crawley (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Falling In Love, Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, Holding Hands, Injury, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Post-Relationship, Post-Scene: Flood in Mesopotamia 3004 BC (Good Omens), Post-Scene: Garden of Eden (Good Omens), Post-Scene: Kingdom of Wessex 537 AD (Good Omens), Pre-Relationship, Pre-Scene: St James's Park 1862 (Good Omens), Scene: Kingdom of Wessex 537 AD (Good Omens), Scene: London 2012 (Good Omens), Scene: St James's Park 1862 (Good Omens), The Dowling Years (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29091708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5ftjewishcactus/pseuds/5ftjewishcactus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_beam/pseuds/aurora_beam
Summary: Living for 6,000 years on Earth, facing some of the difficult or frustration or scary parts of life hasn't always been easy for Crowley and Aziraphale. A few times, they found comfort with each other and curled together to watch the events of the world around them unfold. They become closer until eventually, they can seek out the comfort on purpose.Or five times throughout history that Crowley and Aziraphale cuddled together out of need and one time they cuddled together out of want.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59
Collections: Do It With Style Good Omens Reverse Bang, Ixnael’s Recommendations, Ixnael’s SFW corner





	so hold me, lover, like you used to

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Do It With Style Reverse Bang](https://do-it-with-style-events.tumblr.com).  
> Featuring artwork by the wonderful and lovely [Aurora](https://aurora-b.tumblr.com/).  
> Beta'd by Dashicra1.

5 - Eden 4004

The rain continued to pour overhead. Crawly was protected from most of it, sheltered by Aziraphale’s wing over his head. He didn’t understand why the angel had offered the shelter to him but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Adam and Eve had long since disappeared from view, having found shelter on their own after killing the lion that had been following them. Crawly shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. He’d already stepped closer to the angel when the wing had been offered, but he felt drawn to the angel. There was warmth radiating off him, and Crawly was pulled in by it. He glanced at the angel and shifted a little closer.

Aziraphale looked at him. “Oh, are you..?”

“Cold,” Crawly said. “Snake”

“Ah. Right. Of course.”

Aziraphale turned to him and stepped closer, bringing his other wing around and over. Both wings made a little cocoon around Crawly. Aziraphale’s soft curls were plastered to his head, drops of rain landing on his face.

“Oh, you must be cold too,” Crawly said, before he could stop himself.

“Oh no, I’m fine. I’ve found that these pesky corporations are a matter of mind over matter in regards to any discomfort.”

“I’m still mostly working out hips. Not used to hips. Spent far more time as a snake after… well…”

Crawly trailed off and hoped the angel wouldn't make a thing out of it. He didn’t like thinking about the Fall. Didn’t like thinking about being punished to be something other. A demon. Easier to be a snake. But well… Hell wanted him to cause trouble and while for the most part he’d managed that as a snake, he wasn’t expecting that ability to last much longer. Especially with how far Adam and Eve had managed to go on their own once outside the walls of Eden.

The chill started to fade, now that the warmth from Aziraphale was much more present. Crawly looked at Aziraphale, really looked at him. He was strong but soft at the same time. Terrifying and beautiful all at once. It frightened Crawly. This angel could smite him, but instead he was offering kindness. Crawly didn’t know what to do with that. They were enemies. Hereditary enemies. He should be killing the angel. He didn’t want to. Even if Aziraphale wasn’t being nice to him and keeping him warm and dry, Crawly didn’t like the idea of killing if he didn’t have to.

And honestly what was he supposed to do? Kill the angel who was currently protecting him from the rain and the cold? Why? Because he was an angel? Crawly thought that was ridiculous. Aziraphale hadn’t done anything to deserve death. He’d given his flaming sword to the humans. That alone was enough to stay Crawly’s hand.

Besides, once the rain let up, Crawly would go back to Hell and Aziraphale would go back to Heaven and then they would probably never see each other again. For right now, Crawly could enjoy being close to the angel. Could pretend for a few minutes that they weren’t an angel and a demon. They were just two beings, standing at the edge of Eden, having watched the humans walk away.

“I hope they’re alright,” Crawly whispered.

“I’m sure they are. They will be.”

Crawly nodded. He hoped the angel was right. The sky continued to darken behind the storm clouds, rain and thunder and lightning crashing and booming overhead. It made Crawly shiver again, arms still wrapped around himself. The Almighty was upset. That’s what the storm meant. Her precious humans forced out of the Garden. For a moment, Crawly was grateful for Aziraphale’s continued presence next to him. Surely the Almighty knew he was the one who tempted the humans. Surely She knew it was him, and if She’d wanted, could smite him down for what he’d done. He’d done even less before the Fall. But maybe She wouldn’t, not with Aziraphale so close. Surely the angel didn’t deserve smiting for the kindness he’d shown the humans. Crawly tried not to think about it. He’d have to make his escape quickly after the storm let up, in case the Almighty turned Her ire to him.

Several hours seemed to pass as Crawly and Aziraphale stood together as the storm raged overhead. Neither spoke, both simply observing and quietly wondering what might come next. When eventually the rain began to let up and the gray clouds began to shift away, it had turned from midday to evening, leaving the sky turning dark and the stars in the sky peeking out as the clouds began to lift. Aziraphale carefully pulled his wings away and shook them out. Crawly stepped away and shook out his own wings.

Crawly looked at Aziraphale again, as the angel ran his fingers through his hair, pushing drops of water off his head and down his neck.

“Th-thank you,” Crawly said.

“Oh…,” Aziraphale replied, “you’re… you’re welcome.”

Crawly gave the angel one last look, something to hold onto as he returned to Hell, before he shifted back into his snake form and made his way down the wall. He burrowed into the Earth and made his way back to Hell, to report to Beelzebub the success of his mission. Lucifer was pleased to hear that he’d so easily sullied the humans. His success was so great that he was sent back to Earth to keep an eye on the humans and find other ways to further tempt them away from the Almighty’s love.

Crawly put the thought of Aziraphale out of his head as he made his way back to Earth. Surely the angel was faring better. He’d been Guardian of Eden. He’d probably returned to Heaven and been given a new post. Rewarded for his kindness towards the Almighty’s creations. Crawly would never see him again and so it was best he forget about him. Wouldn’t do to have a demon caring about an angel. Even one as kind as Aziraphale. No, Crawly would tuck the memory of Aziraphale away, with all the other things he kept to himself.

4 - Mesopotamia 3004

It took a thousand years, but Crawly did see Aziraphale again. And again there was a storm. Greater than the storm that had occurred over Eden all those years ago. This one was meant to wipe out all of humanity, except for a small ark containing one family and several animals. Aziraphale and Crawly had managed to save a few children and snuck aboard before the worst of the storm. Below deck, they kept themselves and the handful of children hidden and safe. Again, Aziraphale had shown kindness when Crawly had resolved himself to try to save as many children as he could. He expected Aziraphale to stop him, to decree it against the Almighty’s plan. But Aziraphale had simply come with him silently as they’d gathered the few children they could.

Aziraphale had been able to sneak above deck and find some spare blankets and food for them. The children had eaten and were currently snuggled together to sleep. Crawly sat with one of the youngest in his arms, having rocked the little one to sleep. Aziraphale sat down with him and draped the last of the spare blankets he’d found over the three of them. Crawly welcomed the warmth. He hadn’t even realized he was cold until the weight of the blanket over him began to warm his limbs. A shiver ran up his spine. As if sensing it or maybe seeing it, Aziraphale shifted closer, making sure the blanket was even more secure over the three of them, especially Crawly and the little one.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Crawly said.

“Of course I did. Wouldn’t do for either of you to get cold.”

“And what about you?” Crawly briefly recalled that the angel hadn’t been cold the last time they’d been caught in a storm, something about mind over matter.

“Merely sharing the warmth.”

Crawly couldn’t help but smile, amused by the angel even as Aziraphale carefully reached out and brushed some hair off the young child’s forehead. The warmth radiating off of Aziraphale was again intoxicating, and Crawly couldn’t help but lean into it. If the angel noticed, Crawly hoped he’d chalk it up to keeping the child warm. If Crawly was honest with himself, he wasn’t sure what they were going to do when they landed. It would just be Noah and his children and his children’s families and all the animals. No one else would be waiting for them, for the children that were now parentless. Crawly wasn’t even sure what he’d planned to tell Hell for why he’d saved these few children. Something about defying the Almighty by keeping alive a few of those she’d doomed to death. Surely that would be demonic enough.

It still didn’t change that he wasn’t sure what to do once they reached land again. He would have to find them a new home. New families. Could he find them new families? Where would they even end up landing? Maybe he’d have to threaten Noah’s family into taking care of them. Surely once they’d reached wherever they were going, Noah couldn’t object. No, that wouldn’t do. Noah had listened to the Almighty in the beginning. Crawly would have to find other humans to take in the children. And he would. Whatever it took, he would find them homes. Make sure they were safe.

“Crawly,” Aziraphale whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. For being here.” Aziraphale fidgeted with the blanket with his fingers. “I… I don’t think I could’ve done this without you.”

“I’m sure you could’ve. You helped the first humans all those years ago. You said the Almighty never brought it up again. Surely, She’d let you save them again.”

Aziraphale frowned.

“I lied earlier. Well, sort of. She did ask about the sword and I… I told her I’d misplaced it.”

Crawly’s eyes widened as he stared at Aziraphale. “You lied? To the Almighty?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I don’t know why. Surely She saw me give it away. It had to be a test, wasn’t it? It’s why I’m still here.”

“What do you mean, still here?”

“On Earth. Gabriel told me that for my mistake, not keeping the humans safe from… you… I was to stay here on Earth. Another chance to prove myself and protect the humans from…”

“Temptation?”

Aziraphale nodded again. “I believe I’ve failed, given our current circumstances. I don’t know what’s going to happen when we eventually reach land again. I… I don’t know if I’ll be able to help you, Crawly.”

Crawly stared at Aziraphale, at the frown that marred his lovely round face.

“It’s alright, angel,” he said, the last word slipping out unbidden. “I’ll take care of them. I promise.”

“I know you will. Thank you.”

They fell into silence together, letting it wash over them as the children slept around them. Crawly found comfort in Aziraphale’s presence next to him, even as he felt anger at the Almighty and the Archangels for abandoning Aziraphale. He was good and he was kind and they were punishing him. Hell had praised Crawly for his part in Eden. He had assumed that Aziraphale’s kindness towards the humans would’ve outweighed any potential blame they might place on the angel. Crawly was a demon. He was clever and cunning and he’d slipped into Eden, literally come up through the ground to sneak his way to the humans where Aziraphale wouldn’t see him. Hadn’t revealed himself until the humans had been kicked out. That wasn’t Aziraphale’s fault. He’d been standing on the wall, flaming sword in hand. He’d been guarding them from what he’d perceived as an outside threat.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What?” Aziraphale asked.

“I said I’m sorry. You’re being punished because of what I did. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who tempted them. Not you.”

“I made my choice, Crawly. I gave them my sword. I didn’t smite you, even though I should have.”

Crawly tried to nod, but a knot still formed in his stomach.

“Besides, I find I’d much rather be here with you. Whatever punishment might greet us on the other side will be worth it, knowing we were able to save them.”

Crawly looked at Aziraphale, who smiled at him for the first time since they’d met again. His blue eyes were bright and everything around him seemed to glow. Crawly smiled back. He leaned in closer to Aziraphale who carefully draped his arm around Crawly’s shoulders, keeping the blanket securely around them. More warmth radiated off the angel’s arm where he made contact with Crawly and he fell into that warmth. Grateful to have the angel with him. Whatever the days ahead held, at least they would face it together.

3 - Wessex 537 AD

A battle broke out following the encounter with Sir Aziraphale of the Table Round and The Black Knight aka Crowley, since Aziraphale had actually been unsuccessful at negotiating peace with The Black Knight.

Out on the battlefield, leading an army of scum and villainy, Crowley did his best to merely wound those fighting against him and kept as far from Sir Aziraphale as possible. He wasn’t about to risk Aziraphale still feeling sore over their last encounter and smiting him on principle. Crowley was capable of fighting. He’d been an angel after all. While he hadn’t ever been one of the higher ranking angels, and certainly not on the same level as a Principality, he’d learned battle basics. And Hell made sure those stuck after the Fall. So, Crowley could fight. He just chose not to. He did his level best to use his skills to injure without killing.

But even his best wasn’t enough against the Knights of the Round Table, even if they weren’t Sir Aziraphale of the Table Round and Principality, Guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden. One of the knights got a blow on Crowley that knocked him down and left him vulnerable. The only lucky thing for Crowley was that apparently, Sir Aziraphale, under the orders of King Arthur, had a capture and not kill order for The Black Knight. So Crowley was dragged bodily off the battlefield, bleeding slightly, and stripped of his armor before being left in a tent tied to a post with his arms awkwardly secured above his head by rope.

The battle outside eventually died down, King Arthur’s army winning the battle with the capture of The Black Knight. Crowley debated the merits of miracling himself away. But he also didn’t want to upset Aziraphale further. Surely, if he was to be kept alive for now, the angel wasn’t too upset with him.

At some point, Crowley must have closed his eyes because when he woke up again, Aziraphale was standing before him, a hand gently holding his cheek.

“There you are,” Aziraphale said. “Terribly sorry for keeping you.”

“It’s fine…” Crowley replied, surprised at the angel’s gentleness.

Aziraphale smiled at him and carefully released his arms from their confinement. Before Crowley could gain his own bearings, Aziraphale put his arm behind Crowley’s knees and lifted him up. Crowley gasped and clung to him as the angel carried him over to the small fur-lined bed in the corner.

“Let me take a moment to tend to your wounds,” Aziraphale said, pulling up Crowley’s shirt to expose his injured side.

“You don’t have to do that.”

Crowley attempted to sit up, but Aziraphale’s hand on his chest kept him pressed to the bed. Crowley hissed as Aziraphale pressed his fingers to the wound on his side.

“It isn’t too deep. Best I bandage it.”

Aziraphale stood and went to grab some and Crowley resigned himself to his fate, being tended to by an angel. He closed his eyes and waited for Aziraphale to return. When the angel did, he pressed something cold and stingy against Crowley’s wound, causing him to hiss.

“A little warning next time.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

Crowley hissed again as Aziraphale pressed against the wound with the cloth before pulling it away. He carefully worked to secure the bandage to Crowley’s side, instructing Crowley to sit carefully as he did so. Crowley moved when instructed and laid back down when given the word. Then Aziraphale moved to attend to the wound on Crowley’s head.

“So, what now? Take me to King Arthur to be locked in a dungeon?” Crowley asked, trying very hard not to stare at Aziraphale.

“Oh Heavens no. I convinced King Arthur that I could capture you and negotiate lasting peace.”

Crowley frowned. “Then why the battle? Why not just meet with me again like before?”

“The other knights haven’t exactly liked either of my plans and weren’t willing to let me meet with you on my own again. They’re men of action, not words. Arthur was willing to let me have a chance at negotiating peace, and if I am unsuccessful, then I am to turn you over to Sir Gawain. Which I am trying very hard to avoid.”

“Oh.”

“Honestly, I was surprised you were even still around, after our last encounter.”

“Yeah well…”

Aziraphale stared down at Crowley, blue eyes meeting amber ones in the soft candle light of the tent.

“Please tell me you didn’t want all this fighting and bloodshed,” Aziraphale eventually said, eyes looking away from Crowley.

“Of course not. Aziraphale.” Crowley sat up and gently reached for the angel’s hand. “Angel, you know I wouldn’t. I meant what I said before, about fomenting dissent and discord. That’s all I wanted. If I’d known it was going to come this, I wouldn’t have let you walk away that day.”

Aziraphale looked at him again. “You called me angel.”

“You are an angel, angel.”

Aziraphale ducked his head and moved to clean up the supplies from tending to Crowley’s wounds. Crowley sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Aziraphale asked.

“You said we were negotiating peace? I agree to the peace, so I assume I can… leave.”

“You’re not leaving yet. I have until morning to present King Arthur with the peace treaty.”

“Oh come on, angel, you’re better at words than I am.”

“I know. I’ve already written up the treaty. But you’re not leaving until morning.”

Crowley groaned.

“Besides, you should rest, give your wounds a chance to heal.”

“And what if I just slink away while you’re asleep?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Lucky for you, I still don’t sleep.”

“Really? I bet you’d like it if you tried.”

“I’d rather spend my time reading.”

As if to prove his point, Aziraphale sat down with a book in his lap. Crowley smiled.

“You’re welcome to sleep. I’ll wake you in the morning.”

Crowley nodded and moved to lie down on the bed again. He gave one last glance to Aziraphale before closing his eyes and letting himself fall asleep.

*

“Crowley. Crowley, wake up,” Aziraphale’s voice called.

“Angel,” Crowley whined, as he tried to shift away from Aziraphale’s hands shaking him.

He tried to roll away, but the angel’s strong hand held him, and Crowley shivered as the cool night time air hit his skin.

“Crowley, I need you to focus. You have a fever.”

Crowley groaned but tried to focus on Aziraphale’s voice. He opened his eyes and looked at the angel, a soft glow from the low light in the tent giving him a faux halo.

“Pretty angel,” Crowley mumbled.

Aziraphale huffed, but didn’t comment. He gently held Crowley’s face between his hands and forced the demon to look at him.

“You have a fever, Crowley. I need to check your wounds and I may need to heal it. But I need you to stay awake.”

Crowley focused on the words Aziraphale was saying, even as his mind could only seem to focus on the soft glow around the angel.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, much more strictly than Crowley had heard him speak in the past.

“I’ll stay awake.”

The angel stared at him a moment and after feeling sure that Crowley would, he moved to inspect Crowley’s injured side. Crowley hissed when the bandage was pulled away.

“It’s infected.”

“Leave it.”

“Crowley, if I don’t heal it, you’ll get worse and die.”

“But Heaven…”

“They won’t find out. I’ve been helping King Arthur’s men all night. They won’t be able to tell the difference.”

Aziraphale pressed against the wound again, causing Crowley to hiss again.

“Crowley, please.”

“Fine. Just be quick.”

Aziraphale stood a moment and when he returned he was holding a leather belt.

“Here,” he said, handing it to Crowley.

Crowley took it and held it in front of his mouth. He took a deep breath before biting down on it. He looked at Aziraphale and nodded. The angel moved his focus to Crowley’s wound and pressed his fingers against it.

The problem with an angel healing a demon was the holy power involved in it. It burned by the nature of what it was. Aziraphale pressed his hand against Crowley’s side. The pain of the healing intensified and Crowley felt his teeth dig into the leather belt in his mouth. It burned, almost as though Aziraphale had pressed a red-hot poker to his side. He could feel his more snakey aspects trying to force their way out, scales underneath his skin, fangs piercing leather, forked tongue pressing against the leather.

“I’m so sorry,” Aziraphale said, palm pressed against Crowley’s side.

The pain receded slowly and Crowley was finally able to relax into the bed.

“Here.” Aziraphale gently reached for the leather belt and helped Crowley carefully remove it from his mouth.

Crowley flicked his tongue out into the air, the taste of leather still on his tongue.

With his wound healed, the infection and fever had also been healed, and now Crowley’s previously feverish skin was clammy and cold. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. Aziraphale pulled the fur from the bed and pulled it around Crowley.

“Will you stay?” Crowley asked.

“Of course.”

Crowley shifted over to make room for the angel, who sat down on the bed next to him. After a moment, once properly settled, Aziraphale motioned for Crowley to rest his head on his lap. Crowley hesitated until he saw the soft look on the angel’s face. He settled in, Aziraphale’s hand resting on his head, fingers combing through his hair. Crowley dozed on and off for the rest of the night, comforted by the warmth of Aziraphale so close to him. Caring for him. He was more than he deserved and yet he couldn’t pull away. He idly wondered if Aziraphale felt the same way. His head was currently pillowed on the angel’s soft lap, fingers combing through his hair. And Aziraphale had healed him, despite his protests. It would’ve been easy to let him die. Just like all the times it would’ve been easy for the angel to smite him. And yet.

He pushed the thought down. Aziraphale had rejected him before, suggesting his idea of them just not doing what they were sent to do as ridiculous. He couldn’t look too deep into the angel’s actions. Saving him was purely selfish. If he died in Aziraphale’s care, it would make peace in the land increasingly difficult. And even now, Crowley had asked him to stay. Aziraphale was probably just indulging him and ensuring he didn’t run off during the night, even if Crowley had no plans to. He let his mind drift to other things, like what he might do after he left the angel again.

In the morning they both dressed, Aziraphale having retrieved Crowley’s armor, and they presented the peace treaty to King Arthur and his knights. Crowley and his army departed and Crowley retreated to Hell, leaving King Arthur’s kingdom in Aziraphale’s care.

2 - Soho 1862

Several empty bottles that had once contained wine were scattered across the table in the backroom. Several empty glasses too. Crowley’s top hat and jacket were hanging up by the door, with Aziraphale’s. He’d left his cane in the umbrella rack, and his glasses were sitting on the table, abandoned. He’d even removed his ascot and unbuttoned the first couple buttons of his shirt, and he was contemplating unbuttoning his waistcoat.  
  
He was relaxed, at ease here in Aziraphale’s shop. Aziraphale was still wearing his ascot, though it was slightly askew after he’d fiddled with it a couple of times. His shirt and waistcoat were still perfectly tucked in though. Part of Crowley wanted to reach over and dishevel him more. The other part knew that if he reached over and put his hands anywhere near that fuzzy waistcoat currently wrapped around Aziraphale’s plump middle, he wouldn’t want to let go. 

They’d been drinking steadily for several hours to celebrate Crowley’s return. He’d taken one of Aziraphale’s jobs so Aziraphale could stay in London and meet with another bookseller who happened to have a particular book the angel wanted to add to his already significant hoard. The blessing had been a success, and Aziraphale had his prized book. It was a win-win situation that deserved celebration. Though any night spent with Aziraphale was deserving of celebration, in Crowley’s opinion.

He finished the rest of the wine in his glass and stood to grab a new bottle to refill it.

“Need a top-off, angel?” he asked, grabbing a bottle and giving it a shake to see if it was empty.

“Oh, yes please.”

Crowley shook another couple of bottles before finding one that sloshed with liquid. He refilled his glass and then turned to refill Aziraphale’s. Another bottle emptied, he left it on the table with the rest and stretched out on the couch again. Aziraphale looked at him over his glass with a pout. It made Crowley laugh.

“Angel, you look absolutely ridiculous.”

“I do not.” The pout did not disappear.

“Why are you pouting anyway?”

Aziraphale sipped at his wine, somehow keeping the frown to his lips as he did so. Crowley chuckled again, entirely amused by the drunk and pouty angel.

“You. On the couch. It’s not fair.”

“What about me and the couch?”

Aziraphale took another sip. “Comfy.”

Crowley began to laugh again. “Well, it is comfy.”

He downed the rest of his wine and set the glass on the floor. He stretched out on the couch, tucking his hands under his head and crossing his legs at the ankles.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whined.

“This couch is so very comfortable. You picked well, angel.”

Aziraphale stood and set his glass down on the table before stepping over to the couch. He stared down at Crowley, who stretched out his arms from behind his head and motioned with his hands.

“Come on,” he said.

With a happy wiggle, Aziraphale moved to lie down on the couch with Crowley, who gladly wrapped his arms around the angel’s round waist. The velvet waistcoat was just as soft as he thought it would be, as were Aziraphale’s curls as he tucked himself against Crowley.

“You’re ridiculous, angel.”

“You started it.”

“I started nothing.”

Crowley laughed again and wrapped his arms tighter around Aziraphale. He was drunk enough to be glad for the gift he’d been given and still sober enough to know that he would never have this chance again and needed to hold onto it as long as he could. And he seemed lucky enough that Aziraphale was drunk enough not to object.

“Wanted to do this before,” Aziraphale said.

“Before when?”

A hum in answer and then a slightly mumbled answer. “Oh, many times.”

And oh, Crowley’s heart fluttered at that. Aziraphale, his angel, here in his arms and wanting what he wanted. But he couldn’t. They shouldn’t. Crowley’s mind flashed back 62 years, to when Gabriel had come to take Aziraphale back to Heaven. He’d been so close to losing Aziraphale forever.

“Angel. Aziraphale, get up.”

The angel whined. “No.”

“Aziraphale, now.” Crowley gave a shove to Aziraphale’s shoulders.

Aziraphale grumbled but moved off of Crowley.

“Crowley, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“Sober up, angel. We’re too drunk.”

Crowley sat up and straightened his shirt and grabbed his ascot. He needed to sober up and get out of here. They’d been too careless. He needed space and to think. Fingers struggling to tie his ascot, Crowley took a moment and sobered up. He frowned and flicked his tongue into the air as the alcohol left his system. Aziraphale sat down in his chair and Crowley knew he was sobering up as he frowned and began straightening his own clothes.

Finished with his tie, Crowley grabbed his glasses and pulled them on, hiding his eyes from the being he cared for more than anything.

“I… Good night, angel.”

“Yes… uh… Good night, Crowley.”

Crowley made his way from the backroom to the front door, roughly pulled on his coat and hat and grabbed his cane, before leaving, the bookshop door slamming shut behind him. The night time air was cool, fall settling over the city. He used it to clear his head and think of what to do next.

1 - London 2012

With a click of the light switch, Crowley turned the light off in Warlock’s bedroom and gently closed the door behind her as she left the little antichrist to sleep. It had been a trying first couple of days with the young hellspawn and Crowley was tired. It had been a long while since Crowley had last spent any time around children, and never so one-on-one before, that she’d forgotten how much energy was needed to keep up with one. And young Warlock was a very rambunctious little boy. She headed down the hall to her own room and closed the door behind her. She slipped off her shoes and unbuttoned her jacket, while crossing to the window to look out over the back garden, where the gardener’s cottage was located. The little light was still on and she could imagine Aziraphale sitting up with a cup of cocoa with a book.

She longed to join, if only to have the comfort of someone to whine to about her sore feet and the regret of choosing a Scottish brogue to speak with. With a sigh, she turned away from the window and went about her evening routine. Once in her very comfortable and warm pyjamas, that were very modest as befitting a nanny, she stopped at the window again. The curtain in the little cottage was open and she could see Aziraphale sitting as she’d imagined him earlier. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table and decided it was late enough that she could sneak out without anyone noticing. She grabbed a robe to put over her pyjamas and slipped into a pair of sturdy flats in which to walk across the grounds.

She knocked at the door and waited only a moment before Aziraphale answered the door.

“Oh, hello, Crowley. Please do come in.” Aziraphale held the door open for Crowley to slip inside. “I was just about to make a fresh cup of cocoa. Would you like one?”

“No. But if you have any wine, I’d be grateful.”

“Of course.”

Aziraphale motioned for Crowley to continue through to the small seating area, while he went to the small kitchenette. Crowley stretched out on the couch like she would if she were at the bookshop and let herself relax. Aziraphale sooner joined her, two glasses and a bottle of wine held in his hands.

“It isn’t much. I haven’t had a chance to bring anything from the bookshop, but this should do for tonight,” he said, as he handed Crowley a glass and poured her some wine.

“Thank you, angel.”

Crowley took a drink, the taste slightly bitter on her tongue but still palatable enough to be drunk. Aziraphale poured himself a glass and sank into the chair he’d been in previously.

“How are things with young Warlock?” he asked.

With a sigh, Crowley took another drink. “Fine, I suppose.” She swirled the liquid in her glass, watching it swash against the sides. “I forgot how… energetic children are.”

Aziraphale nodded. “I suppose it has been quite a while since either of us spent any time with children.”

“He’s the antichrist, so I guess I expected him to be… chaotic. But he’s… he’s full of boundless energy.”

“He is the son of an American diplomat.”

“He’s the son of Satan.”

“Well, maybe that’s the reason and more time will mellow him out.”

Another drink of wine and Crowley relaxed further into the couch. She was tired and starting to doubt herself, or at least her plan. Raising the antichrist. Influencing him. He was a child. But he was going to bring about the end of the world. And Hell… there was nothing Crowley could do against Hell.

Crowley blinked and a tear slipped out of her eye. She brushed it away, but it was too late.

“Oh, dearest,” Aziraphale said.

He set his wine glass down and moved to sit on the couch next to Crowley. Before she could protest, Aziraphale took her wine glass away and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. The warmth of his arms around her made her feel safe and whole and she couldn’t hold back. She buried her face against Aziraphale’s shoulders and began to cry.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this, angel.”

Aziraphale held her close and gently rubbed her back. “I know, dear. Neither of us are, really. This task we’ve set up for ourselves isn’t meant to be easy, unfortunately. But we have to try our best. And I’ll be here with you, whatever happens.”

Crowley nodded, sniffling into Aziraphale’s sweater. “I’m sorry.”

“None of that. I suspect the next seven years are going to be very trying for both of us.”

“But I’m the one who dragged you into this.”

Aziraphale moved to gently lift Crowley’s chin to look at him. “You didn’t. I agreed to do this. There was no way I was going to be able to stay in Soho, in my shop, and do nothing until the end. Just like I wasn’t able to stand by and do nothing during the flood.”

With another nod, Crowley smiled. “Why is it always kids?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps something to do with their youth or innocence.”

Crowley sat up and used the sleeve of her robe to wipe the tears from her face. Aziraphale handed her her glass of wine and sat back on the couch with his own.

“Maybe while the weather remains nice, you could bring young Warlock outside, provide his lessons and enrichment near the gardens,” he said.

“For Warlock’s benefit.”

“Obviously.”

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with you needing my help with the roses?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Crowley gave him a knowing smirk before breaking into a laugh. She shifted closer to the angel, leaning into him and his warmth. He put his arm around her shoulders and held her close. Crowley let herself relax again, knowing that Aziraphale would be right there with her, no matter what happened.

+1 Mayfair 2019

It was a few days after the world didn’t end, and Crowley was stretched out on the bed in his flat. Now that they were free to spend time wherever they wanted, they were dividing their time between the bookshop and Crowley’s flat. Aziraphale was curled up next to him, dozing softly. Crowley had convinced him to try sleep, now that he had the time, and it turned out, Aziraphale quite liked sleep. Crowley was very proud to have tempted him into it so quickly. They’d fallen asleep the night before, curled up together, Aziraphale with his arms wrapped around Crowley to hold him close.

That was another thing Crowley was appreciative of in their new normal. They could do this now. Be together. Curl up together. Cuddle. Aziraphale was quite fond of asking Crowley if he wanted “a cuddle” such as he had the evening before, after they’d returned from lunch at this little Italian restaurant Aziraphale loved. Crowley hadn’t been able to say no.

It wasn’t the first time they’d cuddled. But it was different now. They could cuddle on purpose and not out of need. No excuses. Noone freezing in the cold and the rain. Noone hurt or scared. Noone seeking comfort as the end drew near. They could just be two beings who happened to want to cuddle together. Prior to the not end of the world, Crowley wouldn’t have admitted to being such a cuddler. But he very much was, especially when it came to cuddling one particular angel.

While Crowley was lost in his thoughts, Aziraphale’s hand slid over, and he linked his fingers through Crowley’s and brought the hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss against his knuckles. Crowley glanced over at him and smiled, unable to contain the blush rising to his cheeks.

“My darling,” Aziraphale said, blinking open blue eyes.

Crowley smiled. “Did you sleep well, angel?”

He nodded in reply. “And you?”

“Always sleep well when you’re here.”

Aziraphale blushed this time and kissed Crowley’s knuckles again. He mumbled something against Crowley’s fingers.

“What was that?” Crowley asked.

“I love you, dearest.”

Crowley’s blush deepened. He knew how Aziraphale felt. He felt it too. He just hadn’t expected Aziraphale to say it so soon. He took a moment before he spoke.

“I love you, angel.”

He held Aziraphale’s hand and shifted closer so he could wrap his arm around Aziraphale’s plump waist as he pressed kisses against Aziraphale’s cheek and nose and lips. Aziraphale laughed into the kiss, free arm moving to wrap around Crowley’s waist in return.

“What shall we do today, my love?” Aziraphale asked, hand rubbing along Crowley’s back.

“Could have a lie-in. Stay right here, curled together.”

“All day?”

Crowley gave a half shrug. “If we want to. Could order lunch in. That Thai place you like offers delivery now.”

“Tempting me to sloth now?” Aziraphale chuckled.

“Not tempting. We’re retired. We deserve to enjoy it to the fullest.”

Aziraphale hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re right.”

He leaned in and kissed Crowley again. The demon squeezed his hand in return, offering love and comfort in their ability to hold each other and be close. Crowley rested his head on the pillow and stared at Aziraphale, studying his lovely round face. Aziraphale stared back, blue eyes bright and full of happiness.

“You’re staring,” he said.

“So’re you.”

Crowley grinned, unable to contain it and not needing to either. He could be happy in front of and because of his angel. And he was happily content to spend the rest of the morning, and probably most of the day, curled up in bed with Aziraphale too. As Aziraphale kissed his knuckles again, Crowley knew Aziraphale felt the same way. They were on their own side and free to be however they wanted. Crowley didn’t want anything more than what he had at that moment.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on tumblr [@5ftjewishcactus](https://5ftjewishcactus.tumblr.com/) or on twitter on my main [@5ftjewishcactus](https://twitter.com/5ftjewishcatus) or on my sfw gen fandom [@2ambiace](https://twitter.com/2ambiace) or my dbh [@asexualhankcon](https://twitter.com/asexualhankcon).


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